March 24 – St. Ivy High
Rooftop Silence (Jay & Yuki)
Morning Break
Jay stepped out onto the rooftop expecting silence.
Instead, Yuki was already there—leaning against the railing, arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the distant skyline.
He shut the door softly behind him. "Didn't know you were the early type."
Yuki didn't look over. "You're predictable."
Jay gave a dry chuckle. "Good to know some things haven't changed."
"You walked like someone with a storm in his chest," she said, voice even. "And your tie's crooked."
Jay reached up to adjust it, then stopped. "Did you come up here to give fashion advice?"
"No. I came to see if you were still pretending."
That one hit sharper than expected.
Jay leaned beside her on the railing. "I didn't know I was."
Yuki turned her head just slightly. "You're quieter. Smarter with your silences. But you're still acting like you belong to this place."
Jay looked at her. "I do belong here."
"Do you?" she asked. "Or are you just hiding better?"
They stood in silence for a long moment.
Finally, Yuki said, "You can wear your mask all day, Jay. But eventually, someone's going to see the cracks."
Jay raised an eyebrow. "You volunteering?"
Yuki turned back to the skyline. "I already have."
Then she walked away—calm, composed, leaving only silence behind her.
Lunch Period
The classroom was quieter than usual—most students had gone out to the field or cafeteria.
Jay stood beside the blackboard, holding a rag. Emma stood at the far window, erasing old club notices from the glass.
Cleaning duty.
Together.
Unavoidable.
Tense.
Jay cleared his throat. "You missed a corner."
Emma didn't look back. "You're not even looking."
"Still," he said. "It's always the corners."
She wiped slower now, arms stiff.
He stepped toward her. "Emma."
She froze.
Jay stopped too. Just a few feet away. "About the other day…"
Emma shook her head quickly. "Don't. It's fine. Forget it."
"I don't want to forget it."
That made her glance back. Just briefly.
Jay hesitated. "You hugged me."
Emma's hands fidgeted with the cloth. "It was stupid."
"No," Jay said. "It was… surprising."
Emma finally turned. "I don't do things like that."
"I noticed."
Silence.
"You were gone," she said. "And then you were back. And I didn't know what to do."
Jay stepped closer. "You didn't have to do anything."
"I did anyway," she whispered.
Jay searched her face. "Do you regret it?"
Emma opened her mouth—then shut it.
"Lunch bell's going to ring," she said instead.
Jay didn't push.
But before they left the room, she stopped beside him.
"I don't regret it," she said quietly. "But I don't know what it means yet."
Then she walked out, shoulders square but trembling just slightly.
Jay stood there for a while, watching the chalk dust settle.
After School
Jay sat on the curb outside the station with a cold milk tea in one hand and an unopened pastry in the other.
Tyler plopped down beside him, slapping a drink into Jay's free hand. "Told you this place still hits."
Jay took a sip. "They didn't even change the menu."
"Exactly," Tyler grinned. "Reliable. Like me."
Jay gave him a look.
Tyler laughed. "Okay, maybe not like me."
They sat for a while, people passing by in quiet waves.
"So…" Tyler said slowly, "how're you holding up?"
Jay shrugged. "Fine."
Tyler raised an eyebrow. "Jay."
"I mean it," Jay said. "It's just… weird."
"Weird how?"
Jay stared ahead. "Everyone feels the same. But I don't."
Tyler nodded slowly. "Yeah. I kinda guessed that."
Jay looked over. "You did?"
Tyler smirked. "Dude. I've known you since you first learned what sarcasm was. You're quieter now. Heavier. Like there's more going on under the hood."
Jay snorted. "There's always something under the hood."
"Yeah," Tyler said, sipping his tea. "But now it's humming louder."
Jay leaned back on his palms. "Thanks for not pushing."
"That's what I'm here for," Tyler said. "To be loud, distract you with jokes, and occasionally act wise."
Jay grinned. "Occasionally?"
Tyler shrugged. "I don't want to raise expectations."
They both laughed.
Then Tyler asked, "You gonna tell me where you really were?"
Jay paused.
"Someday," he said.
Tyler didn't press.
Instead, he raised his cup.
"To someday."
Jay tapped his cup against it. "To someday."